


Waste of Space

by Lucyverse



Category: Tintin - All Media Types
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Two Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-20 08:32:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15530292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucyverse/pseuds/Lucyverse
Summary: After his reckless stunt on the moon, Haddock’s guilt leaves him questioning whether Tintin is better off without him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> No pun intended with the title ;)

Haddock still wasn’t entirely sure what had been going through his head when he wrote that letter.

He had been warned about all the absurd side effects that came with space travel. Loss of proprioception, deterioration of the musculoskeletal system and some other medical mumbo jumbo he only vaguely understood. But no one said  _anything_  about drinks turning into great blazing liquid bubbles or the sudden loss of gravity every four or five minutes.

It was all too much for someone like him, someone who had spent his entire life on solid ground and never had any intentions of going on wild goose-chases around the globe in his golden years (until he met a certain confounded ginger kitten who went by the name of Tintin.)

His third bottle of Loch Lomond had brought him to an abrupt conclusion. He was abandoning ship. All hands on deck. He was getting back to Earth, even if it meant floating all the way through outer space. So, he scribbled a brief explanation to Tintin - which probably would have been far more heartfelt were it not for his double vision - and proceeded to open the doors.

His lovely boy would understand, he convinced himself. He would find his way back to Marlinspike from that blundering tin can and see Tintin again when the abominable moon excursion was all over and done with. His selfish brain hadn’t even comprehended what would have happened if they had been pulled any closer to that asteroid, and Tintin had once again risked his neck to rescue the undeserving seadog, who was still drunk as a skunk.

‘What do you think you’re doing?!’ the captain had thundered at the boy, sick and tired of being ordered around by that pipsqueak tuft of ginger, who had once again managed to drag him into an abysmal mess, ‘I’m old enough to do as I like! I want to go home, so there! I’ve had enough of this cake-walk, with whisky rolling up in a ball! We’ll end up smashed to little pieces—’

‘BE QUIET!’

Haddock stared at the boy, mouth slightly open, blood swimming into both cheeks as Tintin stood there seething, his blue eyes full of tears on the brink of spilling over and sticking to his face in strange, liquid blobs. He had never heard the boy shout before, not in anger. It was disturbing and unnatural, as if Tintin was standing there holding a human heart still beating in one hand.

‘Don’t you realise that your tomfoolery almost cost us our lives?!’ Tintin went on, getting closer and louder as one gloved finger prodded the front of Haddock’s suit, ‘get back inside at once! And if I catch you drinking again, I’ll clap you in irons for the rest of the trip!’

And for the first time since they left Earth, Archibald Haddock did as he was told.

Neither of them said a word until they reached the cabin and Tintin began to wordlessly pull off his suit, huffing softly as Haddock fumbled about with his radio, struggling to remove it with thick gloved hands. Tintin, his hands already free, scowled with surprising impatience and began to remove the damned radio himself. Haddock remained silent, shamed by this infantile treatment.

‘Tintin…’ he began, as the boy struggled to remove the equipment, kneeling on the floor to pull at the straps, ‘Tintin, I…I’m sorry-’

‘Forget it, Captain.’

More silence. Haddock swallowed down the lump that felt like the size of a cricket ball and carefully laid a hand on the young man’s head, gently stroking, ‘Tintin, lad—’

Tintin flinched, keeling back in what could only have been described as disgust. Haddock retracted his hand as if he had touched a thorn and suddenly he wished he had been sucked into one of those thundering black holes, never to be seen again. Tintin stood, walking to the other side of the cabin and setting his helmet down on the table.

‘Please, Captain,’ he murmured quietly but with an edge to his voice that shattered Archibald’s heart to pieces, ‘I…I don’t want to see you right now. You’ve done enough.’

The sides of Haddock’s mouth quivered in an effort not to fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness. He couldn’t bear to alienate himself from the boy any further, so he kept his mouth shut and waited until Tintin had climbed the ladder out of the cabin before he began preparing himself for bed.

* * *

Tintin was late retiring to bed that night. Whether it was his intention or not, Haddock wasn’t sure, but it made his already broken heart rupture nonetheless.

He had plenty of time to dwell on his poor decisions as he lay in bed, trying (and failing) to sober himself up. He was struck by a swarm of different emotions one by one. First anger, then guilt and finally, when he was somewhat close to sober, complete and utter remorse. He had made plenty of ridiculous mistakes in his life, but this was beyond a simple mishap. He had hurt Tintin in perhaps the worst way possible and as much as it pained him to consider, Haddock wouldn’t have been surprised if the moon landing ended up being their last adventure together. 

He was nothing but a nuisance. Tintin deserved someone who could keep up with him, who could be trusted and above all, someone who didn’t rely on drink to suppress his demons. He was a useless, miserable wretch and that smart, strapping young man was better off without him. The idea of the two of them going their separate ways was beginning to sound like a horribly wise idea.

Tears filled the captain’s eyes as he stretched himself out on the tattered old bed, struggling to get comfortable. He thought of his warm, cosy four poster back at home. He thought about its soft blankets, Tintin curled up beside him peacefully, Snowy pestering the cat while Nestor brought them their morning tea.

How he wished he had never left home. He hated this. He hated space. He hated the rocket. He hated the blasted whiskey that was always around to ruin his life just when he believed he had finally found true happiness.

He turned over on the small, worn out bed and sobbed quietly into the pillows.


	2. Chapter 2

Tintin was well accustomed to the feeling of fear.

He was a brave young man, almost dangerously so, but human nonetheless. He frequently experienced bouts of panic when faced with the perils of his many adventures, as well as the odd, irrational phobias that he only ever disclosed to his closest companions.

But what he felt when he read Haddock’s letter, when he saw him drifting off into the bowels of space, was beyond fear. He was near hysterical, terrified for his life and the lives of everybody else on board – and most of all for his dear captain, who had wanted out of the mission as soon as Calculus had brought it up, who he’d literally had to _drag_ onto that damnable rocket.

The thought of losing his captain, his most beloved friend and lover, was too much to bear. He had already saved Haddock’s life on numerous occasions, but this was different. The captain had  _deliberately_  endangered himself, and that was why Tintin’s fear was immediately replaced with anger as soon as they had returned to safety.

He hadn’t meant to be quite so fierce with the man, but he felt he was within his right to let Haddock know how unbelievably selfish he had been, whether he was his elder or not. Once that anger simmered down, he just wanted to be alone. He went down into the galley to cry out his tears in peace; away from Haddock and the Thompson twins and even poor Snowy, who howled and pawed at the door for hours, wondering why he was being ignored.

Eventually, all the hurt and frustration subsided, and he was too exhausted to cry any more. He wiped his face with his sleeve (his tears hadn’t actually fallen, just stuck to his cheeks in a big ball of liquid,) and fondly rolled his blue eyes at how the craziest things always seemed to happen when his captain was around. 

He wasn’t angry anymore. He knew Haddock would never have pulled such a careless stunt without the influence of alcohol - and from the way the man had lolloped around like a wounded puppy afterwards, Tintin could tell he was truly sorry for what had happened.

He was a stubborn old seadog, but the boy loved him. He loved him more than anything.

* * *

Having expelled so much energy in such a short amount of time, exhaustion was quick to set in and Tintin decided he could benefit from a few hours rest. He left Snowy in the cockpit with the professor and made his way down to the sleeping quarters, hoping the captain was still awake so he could smooth things over with him.

He prayed the man wasn’t angry. Or drunk again. Tintin had been sure to lock any remaining bottles of liquor away in the galley, but Haddock always had a secret stash hidden somewhere.

As he climbed down the ladder to the cabin, he became sensible to the sound of crying; low, almost inaudible wails, as if someone was in terrible pain. In the darkness, he was just able to make out the shape of his captain lying face down on one of the beds, shoulders shaking as he wet the pillow with his tears.

‘Captain?!’ Tintin called out, alarmed.

The shape responded to his voice with a small whimper and he kicked off his boots before moving to sit on the bed, ‘Captain? Captain, what’s the matter? Captain, please don’t cry! What’s happened? Are you ill?’

A muffled, wet sniff and Haddock lifted his head to look up at Tintin with wet, red-rimmed eyes, ‘oh, lad. I don’t even deserve to look at you.’

‘What are you talking abou-?’ Tintin began, before his mind caught up with him, ‘oh Captain, you’re not still upset about what happened, are you?’

‘Of course I’m still upset!’ replied Haddock, biting back a growl through his sobs, ‘I almost got us all killed because I’m a no-good tippler who’s no use to anyone. And if you have any common sense, you’ll wash your hands of me the moment we’re off this flying tub!’

Tintin peered down at him through long lashes, mouth open but unable to form any words with the way his tongue kept curling in and out. He had never seen the Captain in such a state while sober, and the sight made his heart go tight until he feared it would burst.

‘Captain,’ he finally burbled, ‘Captain, don’t be absurd. What you did was foolish, but it’s behind us now. Why would I ever want to leave you? I love you.’

‘Stupid boy,’ the man snapped, shoulders still heaving, and he sat up abruptly, ‘stupid, stupid,  _stupid_  boy. You should have left me on that drug-infested rats warren that I called a ship. Smart, talented boy like you being lumbered with an old salt like me. Cripes Tintin, I’m dead weight. I don’t know why you bother with me. I’m just a great, stinking drunk.’

Tintin couldn’t bear to hear any more. ‘No Captain, no!’ he cried, throwing his arms around the man, ‘what’s happened has happened, there’s nothing we can do to change it now. I love you, Archie, I love you more than words can explain.’

‘You’re a fool.’ Haddock mumbled into the boy’s shoulder.

‘If loving you makes me a fool, then so be it.’ Tintin pulled back momentarily to look into the captain’s eyes, thumbs gently caressing his tear-stained cheeks, ‘you didn’t ask for this, Captain. I dragged you into this mess, like I always do. You could easily have abandoned me, stayed on Earth, but you didn’t. You stuck by me. You’ve never given up on me, even though I cause you nothing but trouble half the time.’

‘That’s not tru-’

‘It  _is_  true, Captain, and you know it. But you forgive me. You  _always_  forgive me, and you always stand by me. So, now it’s my turn to stand by you. Whether you like it or not. I love you, Captain, and I never want to leave your side.’

Haddock’s mouth opened to protest, but Tintin quickly covered it with his own, pushing the larger man back onto the mattress until the captain finally gave up and wound his arms around the boy’s waist to pull him closer.

‘I love you,’ Tintin whispered between kisses, hands reaching up to pull at the zip of his jumpsuit, tugging it down until he revealed bare skin, ‘I love you so much, _mon amour_ , and I don’t ever want you to leave.’

‘Christ…’ the captain murmured, smoothing his rough hands over the boy’s youthful skin, ‘I love you too, little one. I love you too.’

Both their minds remained wracked with uncertainty.

Haddock was sure that this would never last, that the lad would eventually come to his senses and go looking for someone worthy of his affections.

The mere thought of his Captain leaving him, of turning him away and sending him back to the cold and lonely rooms of 26 Labrador Road, made Tintin’s heart thud precariously against his chest.

But as they felt each other’s lips in the darkness, basked in the heat of each other’s bodies, their doubt gave way to passion. They made love in silence, the only sound to be heard being the soft hum of the engines and Tintin’s quiet mewls as his captain thrust gently inside him.  


End file.
